


Honoring the Dead

by Zillidan



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Combat, Crypt, Duskwood, Ghosts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 06:48:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14099664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zillidan/pseuds/Zillidan
Summary: Almost killing herself in an intense ritual, Lyra implored the local dead to give up their bodies in order to heal her. Some dead, however, did so against their wishes and cursed her. Intent on removing it, she sets out to Duskwood to find the ancestors responsible.





	Honoring the Dead

The late afternoon sun slowly fell behind the dark overhand of Duskwood as Lyra left the bright and sunny farmlands of Westfall and crossed over the Nazferiti into the dark and haunted woods. Earlier in the week, in a meeting with other members of her group, Lyra had found herself sapped of strength and life following a complicated ritual. Essentially, some of her life force had been drained and her body somewhat left a bit deteriorated. In an effort to curb the decline of her physical form, she elected to implore the local dead to lend what was left of their forms in order to rejuvenate her form. While most had been willing to assist the Ranger, a few of them were less than happy and upon doing so, cursed Lyra. For weeks she would wake up, spirits haunting her, attempting to sever the magic binding her soul to her body, keeping her alive. Figuring out who these individuals were, she traced their lineage back to Brightwood and found that their ancestors had been resting in Raven Hill Cemetary. In order to make peace, she made the trek down to the decrepit woods to seek forgiveness.

The mostly abandoned town only housed a few small tents from some researchers who were clearly out in the field. Lyra had no issue moving through to the gates of the entire cemetery. Though documentation she acquired narrowed down the section she had to search, it would still be a daunting task to find the correct grave. Steeling herself, she carefully tugged her gauntlets on tight, adjusted her ears in the small slits in her hood, and carefully unsheathed her bow, nocking an arrow and holding it on the bowstring. She made her way down the worn path to the middle, before breaking in the direction that she had found. The graveyard seemed empty today, no dead stirring, but she kept her focus and scanned for any signs of movement. Though Void Whispers now always accompanied her thoughts, it was the whispers of the dead that began to invade and prod at her mind. They knew she was coming, knew what she wanted. It didn't take long for her to reach what she sought. 

Long ago, grave robbers had broken into the catacombs underneath, leaving a small cave in at a large marked grave. She knew that they were buried down here, just not exactly where. She pulled her long coat aside and trimmed a small lantern hanging from her belt. Striking a match she lit it, watching the warm glow hum to life inside. Carefully she slid down the dirt ramp to the bottom and glanced around. The silence of the air was deafening, making the whispers in her mind scratch and prod at her brain. Only the small whistling of wind coming through the open ceiling of a storm blowing in broke through. She carefully pushed cobwebs aside as she emerged into the large burial room. Dozens of bodies stacked three rows high lined the room, with only one column missing from the previously mentioned grave robbers digging tunnels. Holding her bow in one hand she unhooked her lantern and carefully moved about the room scanning the decayed plaques. Though most were tough to read, she found what she was looking for after minutes of searching. She knelt down and placed the lantern on the cold floor, removing her gloved and wiping away the cobwebs, dust, and grime from the plaque.

"Abbotsford.."

She carefully placed her bow down and lifted her hood off of her head, shaking her hair out as the Void tinged tips glowed a dull purple in the soft yellow light. She closed her eyes and focused her energy on her palm. The Void gave way and she channelled dark Death magic, bridging the gap between life and death. The mindless whispers in her head suddenly gave way to a sharp, single voice shouting in her mind.

"So! The Ranger has finally arrived. It was a mistake to come here, your kind is a mockery of life!"

She shuddered, the voice piercing through her skull, making her head throb as she shook her head.

"I implored the dead for their aid and it was granted willingly. Only your kin refused and I was left with the option of myself of them. I made the hard choice."

"Hard choice? It seemed pretty easy. Save yourself and desecrate the dead. You shouldn't dwell with one foot on either side of life or death. The curse shall remain, now go."

The entire mausoleum rumbled slightly, Lyra glancing around as she swore that some of the coffins shifted slightly.

"I cannot. Eventually, your curse will take my life anyways. I either ear your respect and honour or die anyway."

The spirits laugh rang through her mind as the room rumbled again.

"Very well, then you will die indeed."

Immediately, four torches in each corner of the room and one large chandelier with ancient candles all flared to life, illuminating the entire room. Lyra shot up, yanking her glove and hood on and pulling back her bow. The arrowhead immediately flared a brilliant violet colour, smoking purple and seemingly dripping essences as she whirled around. Immediately, one of the shaking coffins fell off the shelf and shattered on the stone. A half-decomposed corpse rose up, lumbering slightly before moving towards Lyra faster than she expected. Ready, she quickly fired at the slowish moving target. The arrow pierced through the decomposed skull easily, thanks to the Void magic, and the body burned a sickly purple before falling to the ground lifeless. Immediately, three more coffins fell. She quickly moved away from the walls and began Firing as fast as she could. Each arrow strengthened by the void. she expertly shot each lumbering Zombie, Skeleton, and Ghoul that came towards her, though her strength was fading fast. 

Feeling confident she reached back and only found air between her hands. Growling, she threw her cloak back and pulled out her dagger. A Ghoul lunged at her and swiped, catching a bit of her arm. Howling out and grimacing, the Void tinged long Kukri type dagger came back in retaliation, slicing through the Ghoul with ease. She then heard a patter behind her and attempted to whirl around, only to be knocked onto her back by an attacking Zombie. Her knife was knocked out of reach and as she reached for it, the Zombie bit right through her shoulder pad, making her cry out in pain. Reaching into the Void she punched back at the Zombie with a blast of energy, knocking it back and destroying its entire upper form. She grabbed her knife and stood up. The room was filled to the brim with Undead, all lumbering towards her. Grabbing her knife she slowly looked around, ready to die. However, they all began to stop and hold their heads, swaying back and forth and then shrieking and retreating back into the tunnel that was dug out of the room.

"Enough. Ranger, to me.."

Lyra turned to the original coffin, noting it had somehow slid out of its spot. A spirit slowly rose out and beckoned her over. The incorporeal form looked to be some kind of Mage in life, but the skulls adorning it painted that darker profession this being had performed in his previous life.

"Ranger, I am not proud of what my family did in life. Necromancy is a dark art and frowned upon in society as you know. We hunted down the innocent, dealt with bodies, robbed graves, and desecrated loved ones for experiments and power. I then made it my duty in death to punish those that practiced a similar pursuit." 

The ghost passed through her and gestured to all the corpses around her, the dead ones, and the reanimated.

"I watched as you used not only the corpses of people to strengthen yourself, but the bodies of my friends and loved ones. I should cut you down where you stand."

He turned and held out his hand, a sword materializing out of mid-air as Lyra held up her knife. The spirit lowered the blade and dropped it to the floor, evaporating into nothingness.

"However, you did respect the dead, even as a being of Undeath yourself. Despite my family's stubbornness, you acted honourably, more than most of the craft. For that, you have my gratitude."

He reached out and a small ghostly presence pulled out of Lyra. She bowed to the spirit and nodded.

"I have done things as a member of the Forsaken that I am not proud of and dabbled in a magic that we both understand isn't one of the greatest. I only wish for my life to be an atonement for my crimes."

The spirit's brow furrowed as he studied her face.

"We will see, in time perhaps. Until next time Ranger..."

She nodded once again as the ghost whizzed through her and into the coffin. Immediately the flames all died and Lyra was left in the glow of her lantern only. She carefully collected her bow and swung it back over her form, content she wouldn't need it anymore on the trip out. She quickly left the rub and climbed up the soaking wet dirt as a thunderstorm had rolled into Duskwood in the meantime. Topside, she pulled her coat and hood tight as she made her way out of Raven Hill and back into Stormwind to continue her journey with her group.


End file.
